


could be our last tomorrow

by reliquiaen



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, also a bunch of ring in characters for padding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 06:02:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13001391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reliquiaen/pseuds/reliquiaen
Summary: “It’ll be a closed casket, if that’s what you mean.”today on aus with reli: "classic western" ft cowboys and outlaws and a shoot out where no one plays fair(only hopefully better than actual cowboy movies)





	could be our last tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> i looked up the names of cowboy movies and omg they're all ridiculous ok. thought i'd theme the title of this one a little after them even though this isn't really the same.

Nicole takes her hat off as she steps under the eaves, using the wide brim to bat dust away from her face. Her boots clack loudly on the wooden boards and she cringes inwardly. It’s too loud – too loud for the kind of day it is. The wind kicks dust up behind her and the windmill creaks. That’s too loud as well.

She tucks her hat into her elbow and steps across the porch, lifting a hand to knock. She hesitates a moment, mouth twisting sourly, gloved hand tightening until her knuckles ache. These are the worst kind of visits.

When she finally sighs and lets her fist rap sharply against the heavy door it’s with resignation and an awful lump weighing her chest down.

The quick tapping of shoes precedes the door being pulled in and Nicole’s eyes widen just a fraction when she realises it’s not who she’d been expecting. Her feet shuffle across the porch as she clears her throat, inclining her head.

“Miss Earp,” she says, throat tight.

Waverly Earp regards her flatly, one hand still on the doorknob, the other clenching in her wide blue skirts. “Deputy.” Her voice sounds strained too and she glances past Nicole just briefly before her gaze settles back on her face.

Nicole’s mouth twists again slightly. “I’m looking for Miss Nedley, is she home?”

Something flickers in Waverly’s eyes but she steps back, opening the door properly. “She is. In the sitting room.”

She nods her head and steps slowly into the house. The Nedley ranch sits outside of town; Randy had always said it was to keep distance between the town’s miscreants and his daughter. It’s a sprawling single storey affair with tall windows and lots of porch space all the way around. As Nicole walks into the sitting room, trailed by Waverly, she can see the stables out past the vegetable garden Chrissy keeps.

Chrissy herself is perched on the edge of one of the single seat sofas, she has a book open in her lap but from the way her fingers fidget with the page and the corner is creased and dog-eared, Nicole doesn’t think she’s really reading. Just sitting there pretending. Her heart drops even further at the sight.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” she says, forgoing the typical ‘good’ prefix. It’s inappropriate.

Chrissy shoots to her feet, book thunking to the floor. Her shoulders are stiff and she doesn’t seem to know whether to stay where she is or stride over and grab Nicole by the collar. “My father?” she asks, high pitched. There’s a darkness under her eyes that says she hasn’t slept.

Nicole’s mouth turns down at the corners. “We found his horse,” she says, trying to keep her voice level and not having much success. “He wasn’t there.”

“And Tom?”

The deputy Nedley had insisted he hadn’t needed. Just thinking about it makes her drop her eyes to Chrissy’s feet. “I’m sorry.” She wants to say something, to clarify that, explain what they found; but she also doesn’t think Chrissy needs any more torment. “Doctor Chetri has him but…”

Nicole feels Waverly step up beside her and lifts her eyes. She can’t meet Chrissy’s gaze though, she stares out the window over her shoulder.

“He’s… gone, Miss Nedley.”

Chrissy sinks into the sofa again and to Nicole the movement is all slowed down. Waverly’s fingers grab her wrist lightly and Nicole does look at her then. Her eyes are full of sorrow. The contact doesn’t last as Waverly kneels down beside Chrissy’s chair.

It can’t be easy losing a fiancé and father in the same day. And only closure for one of them.

“We’ll keep looking for your father, Miss Nedley,” Nicole promises her but her words feel hollow. They can look all they like, but Nicole already fears they’ll only find a corpse. “I’m sorry.”

She tips her head one last time and bows out. Behind her, she can hear Chrissy start crying.

Nicole doesn’t even get the front door open when she hears her name hissed softly. She turns and starts when Waverly collides with her in a fierce hug.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Is Tom…?”

Her throat clenches. “It’ll be a closed casket, if that’s what you mean.”

When Waverly pulls back there’s something angry in her eyes and Nicole feels a thread of fear coil through her.

“What happens now?” she asks, but the badly concealed fury doesn’t disappear.

“Waverly, whatever you’re thinking,” she says. “Don’t.”

Her hands tighten in Nicole’s coat. “What happens now,” she repeats.

Nicole sighs. “I’m acting sheriff until we find Nedley,” she says. “I guess we keep looking for him.” She pauses. “And those responsible.”

“We know who’s responsible,” Waverly says tartly.

“Do we?” Nicole hesitates before asking softly, “Have you heard from your sister lately?”

There’s a warning in Waverly’s expression when she pulls away, head tilted at an angle that says ‘you’re questioning _me_ now, really?’ but Nicole just waits.

“No,” Waverly relents. “I haven’t. And I’ve told you –”

“Wynonna isn’t behind this,” Nicole finishes for her. “Yes. And I _believe_ you when you say that. But she’s out there, Waverly. She might have seen something.”

Waverly sighs, smoothing her hands over Nicole’s coat. “I know. And I worry about her.”

“She’s a fool.”

“She’s _rash_.” The warning tone is back, but it fades. “You know she’s had problems with the town before. Purgatory is not the most… embracing.”

Nicole huffs. “Believe me, I’m aware. Three people already today have commented about ‘the first female sheriff’ and I’m only _acting_.” She leans away to fix Waverly with a serious look. “If you see her, try to talk some sense into her, please. For me. I just want to talk, not arrest her or anything.”

Waverly clucks her tongue. “Nedley said that more than once and…”

“I’m not Nedley, Waves,” she whispers.

“No.” Waverly tilts up to kiss her cheek. “You’re not.”

She feels her face heat and clears her throat. “Take care of Miss Nedley.”

Waverly laughs softly. “Take care of _yourself_ , please, Nicole.”

She pulls the door open and steps outside, jamming her hat back on her head. “Always.”

The sun stands just past its zenith as Nicole swings up into her saddle. Waverly is still standing in the doorway when she rides away.

 

* * *

 

 

“Rough week, kid?”

Nicole sighs as she slides onto a bench in the far corner of Shorty’s Saloon. Gus McCready arches a brow at her but leaves the glass of water. Almost she asks for whiskey but figures it’ll be better to keep a clear head.

“The worst.”

Gus chuckles. “Not enjoying the mantle, huh, Sheriff Haught?”

Nicole glowers at her. “Acting sheriff.”

“Sure.” She sobers then, today is not a day for levity. “There was a man in here around lunch,” she continues, wiping down the table top. It’s like she doesn’t want anyone to know they’re talking and that’s ridiculous. Nicole straightens at the possibility all the same.

“Did you know him?”

Gus shakes her head. “He’s staying in town though. At Beverly’s place.”

They didn’t really get a lot of strangers through Purgatory. Nicole muses on what Gus said for a moment. “Did he say anything interesting?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “Not really. I get the impression he’s from further south. Thought you might like to talk to him.” With that she tucks her rag into her waistband. She throws a mostly respectful, “Sheriff,” over her shoulder as she departs.

Nicole spins her glass between her fingers, watching the other patrons of the saloon. It’s fairly empty tonight but she’s not surprised. Not many have been risking the streets after dark recently. And for good reason.

It’s hard to keep the people safe when no one even seems to see the people doing the robbing, the assault and the occasional kidnapping. None of the three people taken have been seen since and Nicole had cautioned Randy about going looking for them. The wilderness wasn’t safe anymore; she’d been the one to insist he take backup. Tom had volunteered, sure, but it was _her_ insistence that got him killed.

None of this is right.

She spins her glass away from her and stands up. No one glances at her twice as she heads outside. Not even Gus. It’s a brisk autumn evening and she rubs her hands together before untying her horse. Cassidy tosses her head, snorting at her as she’s led down the dusty street.

“You’re alright, girl,” Nicole tells her. “We’re not going far.”

Beverly Maine runs a small hotel a few blocks away, it has only a handful of rooms for rent but in Nicole’s seven years in Purgatory she can’t remember a single instance of them all being booked at once. As she approaches Maine Inn, she sees a lamp lit in one window on the second floor. Other than the big window at the front of the building it’s the only one with light.

Nicole ties Cassidy to the hitching post and ducks inside, doffing her hat at the door. The foyer is empty, but at this hour she’s not all that surprised. She leaves her hat on the rack by the door and steps through into the sitting room. Beverly Maine is sitting in a rocking chair with a cat on her lap and a shotgun propped at her side.

“Deputy Haught,” she says and immediately shakes her head. “It’s Sheriff now, I suppose, isn’t it. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Nicole inclines her head politely. “Ma’am. I hear you have a guest. And not someone from the outlying farms. A stranger.”

Beverly runs a hand along the grey cat’s back absently. “My, word _does_ get around. And what interest do you have in a stranger, _Sheriff_.” There’s something tense in the emphasis she puts on that last word and Nicole’s back stiffens automatically.

“We’ve been plagued by criminals we can’t seem to lay a hand on for months now, _Miss Maine_ ,” she says coldly. “And our sheriff is missing. I’m following up a potential lead.”

Beverly eyes her flatly for a few more seconds. She lifts a hand to pat at the bun catching her greying hair and then she sniffs. “Doing your job, I suppose.” Her words carry more than a hint of disbelief.

Well, Nicole’s had plenty of that in her years here (and before in Nevada, too). “I promised Miss Nedley I would find her father and I don’t mean to make a liar of myself. If there’s a chance your stranger might know something, I’m going to learn it.”

For a long moment there’s no sound save for the cat’s quiet purring and the creak of Beverly’s rocking chair. Then she waves a hand. “There’s a key behind the desk to his room; 2B. But knock first.”

Nicole hesitates a moment, wondering if Beverly won’t escort her up. That seems proper. But the older lady just returns to staring into the crackling fireplace.

With a soft sound of confusion, Nicole turns to locate the keys. It’s not hard; they hang on a little hook under the rim of the counter along with all the others. She unhooks it and heads for the stairs with only a brief glance back at Beverly.

She knows her rights, her job, her responsibilities, but sometimes Nicole wonders whether or not some of the townsfolk at least aren’t out to get her.

There’s light glowing from under one door in the dark hallway so Nicole knows which one is her goal. When she reaches it, though, she pauses, rethinking this. Maybe she should’ve told James she was coming, told someone at least. She hears Waverly Earp telling her to take care of herself and shakes it free.

Her fist raps on the door.

There’s sound on the other side as if someone had been startled and dropped something. “Who is it?” a man’s voice calls.

“This is Sheriff Haught,” she replies, voice catching almost imperceptibly over the unfamiliar title. The one she hadn’t asked for. “I’d just like to speak with you a moment.”

There’s another loud thumping noise and Nicole readies herself to knock the door in and chase whoever this is down. But then the door swings inwards a sliver and a dark face stares at her, surprised. He eyes her up and down but she can’t make much of him out, backlit as he is. After a long tense second, he pulls the door wider.

“Sheriff?” he asks as she steps inside. A chair lies on its side and a pocketbook is sprawled nearby, its contents strewn about.

“That’s right,” she tells him, eyes sweeping the rest of the room.

There’s not much else to see. It’s tidy and the only other effects she can spot are saddlebags at the foot of the bed, laces all still firmly tied. So she turns to regard the man. He’s taller than her by about a head with closely shaven hair and a smooth chin. The collar of his white shirt is loose, laces undone, untucked and rumpled, stained in more than one place with dirt. Honestly it’s more of a grey than white, but that just speaks to time spent on the road.

“And who are you?” she asks blithely. “We don’t get many strangers through here and certainly none of late.”

He shuffles his feet and she notes white marks on the toes that might be chalk. They are otherwise impeccably cared for. “Name’s Dolls,” he tells her, a note of wariness in his voice. “Xavier Dolls.”

“From?”

“Montreal. Why?”

“What’s your business in Purgatory?”

Dolls lifts his hands. “Listen, Sheriff. I don’t know what you think I’ve done but I’m just passing through.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “What are you doing in this town, Dolls?”

“Delivering a message.” He indicates his pocketbook. “It was meant to be given to the resident of the Earp homestead but all the windows were dark.”

Fear shivers from Nicole’s head to her toes and she draws herself up, closing the space between them. “What do you want with Waverly Earp?” And then it clicks. “You know her sister. Wynonna.”

He opens his mouth, perhaps to deny it but then his teeth click shut and he nods.

She sighs heavily and sinks to sit on the only other chair in the room, running one hand through her hair. “You know about what’s going on here?”

Slowly, Dolls lowers his hands. “I know that people have been going missing, about the robberies. Nothing else.” He rights the fallen chair and scoops his pocketbook back together before seating himself across from her. “Do you know what’s going on?”

She shakes her head. “Only that whoever is doing this is slippery.” She fixes him with a pointed stare. “I want to talk to Wynonna.”

“She doesn’t know anything more about it than I do,” he assures her, though he can’t possibly expect her to be convinced. “She’s worries about her sister.”

“So do I,” Nicole breathes. “Even if she doesn’t know anything, I’d still like to talk to her.”

Dolls bobs his head, perhaps resigned to her determination or maybe just tired. “I’ll take you in the morning. After I’ve delivered the message to the homestead.”

Nicole eyes him a moment, wondering if he’s serious and upon deciding that he is, she shakes her head. “No. I’ll take the letter. And I’ll meet you here in the morning.”

He opens his mouth – probably to argue – but closes it again quickly. His expression is a strange one when he passes her the letter but she ignores him. It’s not sealed and Nicole is sorely tempted to read it. She tucks it into her pocket as she stands, whatever is in it, she’s not meant to see it.

“Have a pleasant evening, Mister Dolls,” she says as she exits.

Beverly is still in the rocking chair when she deposits the keys back on the table and quietly wishes her a good evening as well. She doesn’t get so much as a glance.

Cassidy eyes her as she hauls herself into the saddle again and whickers softly as she turns her back towards the Nedley house.

“I know, girl,” Nicole says, patting her neck. “It’s been a long day. But it’s nearly over.”

 

* * *

 

 

Nicole’s really starting to feel the day catch up to her when she dismounts outside the Nedley ranch once again. There’s an ache in her back that goes all the way down to her toes. She rubs Cassidy’s nose and tries not to think about getting home and eating, that’ll just make it worse.

Pressing the heel of her palm against one eye, she stifles a yawn and climbs the steps to the door. This time, her knock is much slower. A light flickers to life in the sitting room and then Waverly is pulling the door open again.

“Glad you’re still here,” Nicole exhales.

Waverly’s in nothing but her nightgown and a coat, her toes wiggle on the wooden floor and she frowns up at Nicole. She doesn’t wait long before she’s clucking her tongue and pulling Nicole in by the front of her coat.

“You silly woman,” she huffs. “Go home and get some rest.”

“How’s Chrissy?” She doesn’t expect a real answer, but has to ask as she allows Waverly to lead her through the house to the kitchen and push her into a seat.

Waverly sweeps her hands over Nicole’s cheeks, knocking her hat off and resting it on the table. “She’s asleep. Have you eaten?” Her voice is soft – so soft it makes Nicole _ache_. She shakes her head, too tired all of a sudden to say anything. Waverly sighs, and pulls her closer. “I’m sorry, Nicole, really.”

“I shouldn’t have let him go,” she mumbles into Waverly’s middle.

“As if you could stop that stubborn man from doing anything.” She smooths her palms over her hair and leans back. “Let me heat you up some stew.” Nicole can only nod before Waverly is moving off to suit her words. “Did you ride back over here just to ask after Chrissy?”

Nicole leans on her elbow, slouched heavily across the table. “No.” For a moment she’s fine just watching Waverly move about the Nedley kitchen but then she gets this… _look_ , that is uniquely Waverly and it speaks volumes in the silence. “There’s a man staying at Beverly’s. He got here this afternoon, apparently. Went to the homestead looking for you.”

Waverly tenses and the kettle rattles a little more than it should when she lowers it to the hot plate. “Who is he?”

“Says his name is Dolls.” She reaches into her coat and pulls out the letter, places it on the table – addressee side up – and slides it over to her. “He was told to give you this.”

Waverly folds her coat a little tighter around her middle before picking it up. “It’s not sealed?”

“Wasn’t when I got it,” she explains. “I didn’t read it.” After a long pause while Waverly stares at the paper she admits, “Though I did want to.”

Waverly’s eyebrow crooks upwards but there’s a smile playing at the edges of her mouth. She sits down opposite Nicole and pries the letter from the envelope. As she reads – silently at first – her eyebrows climb even higher; it’s genuine surprise too if the slight widening of her eyes is any indication. Nicole thinks she reads it twice, just to be sure, before passing it over.

She opens her mouth to say she doesn’t want to but Waverly levels that look at her again so she just takes it.

 _Waverly_ , it begins. _Sorry to do this to you, but that town is a hole and I don’t know who to trust. I figure you can let lil Chrissy Nedley know her father is alive. For the moment at least. When he gets better we’ll make sure he gets home safe. In the meantime please take care, baby girl. It’s not safe anymore, I’m not sure if it’s bears or coyotes or men, but we’ve lost two boys in the last week alone. I’d suggest you join us if I didn’t think it wasn’t safer in town. If only by a margin._

 _Sorry this is brief, but I wanted someone to know about Nedley_.

It’s signed only with the letter W but Nicole knows the only person who’d write to Waverly is her sister. When she looks up she’s met with Waverly’s warm eyes, there’s a steely glint behind them that sends something plunging through her chest. Carefully, she pushes the letter back to her.

Waverly stands when the kettle whistles and pours two cups of tea. She also brings a now warmed bowl of stew and a hunk of bread back for Nicole. Her stomach – now fuelled by the smell of cooked food – is much more insistent about how hungry she is. They’re silent only for as long as it takes Nicole to eat.

“I’m going with Dolls in the morning,” Nicole says softly.

“I figured.” Waverly pauses long enough for Nicole to convince herself that she’s not going to have to talk her out of something crazy. But then, of course, “I’m coming with you.”

“Waverly,” she whines. “No.”

“Yes. Maybe Doctor Chetri should come too.”

Nicole shakes her head. “We can’t leave the town without a doctor for too long; who knows what might happen.” She leaves unspoken the possibility that someone will fall victim to their mysterious outlaws. “And you shouldn’t leave Chrissy.”

“She’ll be fine when she hears her father’s alive.”

“And what if…” Nicole’s throat tightens but she tries again. “And what if he doesn’t make it back to town? You can’t tell her until we know for sure he’ll make it.”

Waverly’s eyes soften. “Alright.” She gave in to that much too fast for Nicole’s liking. Something flashes in her eyes but instead of pressing Waverly says, “You be careful. And tell Wynonna I give her my best.”

Nicole’s eyes narrow at her just the slightest. It is wildly unlike Waverly to surrender so easily, even when Nicole is sure she has all the good points on her side of the argument it’s a rarity. Waverly’s hand slides across the table to rest over hers and that warmth is back in her eyes so Nicole relaxes. She’ll regret it at some point, she’s sure, but for now she’ll let it go.

Waverly’s fingers wind between hers and she tugs her up from the table. Nicole’s legs actually wobble a little she’s so tired. Waverly stands on her toes, pulling Nicole down by her collar to kiss her softly.

“Go home and sleep,” she sighs against Nicole’s mouth. “You’ll have a big day tomorrow.”

Nicole’s hands tighten where they’ve landed on Waverly’s hips. “You know where she is?”

“No,” Waverly laughs, kissing her again. “But I know my sister. She’s a lot of work.” Her hands fan across Nicole’s chest. “Be safe. And come home.”

Nicole tips forward to kiss her once, twice more just softly. Then she steps away, trailing one hand down to squeeze Waverly’s. “Yes, ma’am,” she says, earning a well-meaning eye roll.

Waverly tucks her coat together and crosses her arms when Nicole lets her hand go and heads down the stairs to untie Cassidy. Nicole looks back before slinging her leg over the saddle and something in her diaphragm twitches uncomfortably at the silhouette Waverly cuts in the doorway.

She has always hated riding away from Waverly Earp.

 

* * *

 

 

Nicole sits her horse the next morning outside Beverly’s inn and waits for Mister Dolls to join her. His must be the dun gelding she saw in the stables on her way past; a nice horse. He isn’t long in joining her, though Beverly does give her a testy look from the patio as he heads to saddle his horse.

Cassidy frisks to one side when he re-emerges, saddlebags heavy and shoulders thrown back more from habit than alertness, she thinks. He stifles a yawn with his fist, tips his hat at Beverly and heels his horse down the street. Nicole follows suit, tugging her brim down to shade her eyes against the still rising sun. Every step their horses take lifts a cloud of dust behind them.

She thinks she might be lucky to make it out of the town’s limits.

James is standing at the foot of the stairs leading into the sheriff’s office, one hand holding his hat in place as the wind picks up and the other hooked into his belt by his pistol.

“You leaving us then?” he calls.

Nicole reins to a stop in front of him and fixes him with the most venomous glare she can manage before eight in the morning. “I’m just making a round, _deputy_ ,” she tells him through gritted teeth.

James’ head falls to one side and the hand at his belt clenches. “You’re going t’get yourself killed.” He spits into the dirt.

Beside her Dolls’ horse shifts nervously. Nicole passes him the reins with a firm look and dismounts. It takes her two long strides to reach James. She tries to ignore the busybodies standing under eaves and at alley corners nearby, watching.

“Whatever you may think, deputy,” she says. “I know my job and how to do it.” Over his shoulder Harrison steps out of the precinct and into her glower. “Harry, you’re in charge while I’m gone. If I’m not back by tomorrow afternoon, do not send a party after me.”

She sees him nod out of the corner of her eye but James is wearing a smirk.

“You really think you’re going t’find something, _sheriff_.” The emphasis is not for respect. “You’ll end up just like that old tumbleweed who put you in charge. Out of his mind.” That last is grumbled so softly she’s pretty sure she’s not meant to hear it, but regardless she won’t have him speaking ill of Nedley.

Nicole grabs him by the collar and gives him a shake. “Listen to me carefully, James. Nedley is a good man, and if I can find him, I will. You haven’t even managed to find Old Pete’s missing dog yet so how about you keep your opinions to yourself.”

She shoves him away and he nearly trips backwards up a step. “Randy was howling putting you in charge,” he spits. “Neither of you has turned up a lead in a month. Our supply lines will be hit next and then what?”

Nicole presses a hand to her hat, settling it back in place. “Well if you can find any information while I’m gone _then_ you can point blame at someone. Until then, keep yourself straight because you haven’t done any better than the rest of us.”

James’ lips curl in a semblance of a smile. “We all know who’s behind this,” he says, standing again, hands tugging his vest straight. “But you won’t do anything because you’re sweet on her sister.”

Her hands clench with the effort of not punching him square in the nose. She steps closer to him, right up into his space. The only reason she has to look up is that he’s standing on the lowest step. “Waverly Earp has _nothing_ to do with this,” she hisses coldly. “And neither does her sister.”

He cocks his head. “You’re the only fool in town as thinks Wynonna Earp isn’t behind this. And you’re going to get us all killed, _Sheriff_.”

Nicole jabs a finger into his chest. “Watch yourself, deputy. Listen to Harry while I’m away and stay in line.”

She watches his fingers twitch towards his holster and his eyes flick up over her shoulder at Dolls. Nicole fair _bristles_ when he relaxes but it’ll have to do for now. Unlike James, she knows how to pick her battles and this is an old argument they won’t resolve this morning.

James’ mouth twists bitterly and the hat tip he gives her is barely worth the name. “As you say. Sheriff.” As always, he bites the title off as if she were personally responsible for the death of his dog.

She snatches her reins from Dolls as she mounts, giving first James and then Harrison a sharp look. “I want a record of anything of note that happens on my desk when I get back, Harry,” she says, her tone a little more moderate. He, at least, isn’t so outspoken about his feelings on her being appointed Nedley’s second. She gives James one last withering look and heels Cassidy after Dolls.

“They don’t like you,” Dolls says after a few minutes of silence.

Nicole wrestles with that for a second. “Not really. Most of them grew up here. Didn’t like that an officer from elsewhere got the sheriff’s approval over them.” She scoffs. “And a _woman_ no less.”

Dolls bobs his head, flicking his reins. “Well. Maybe they just need to learn what a woman can do.”

She gives him a sideways look then, just quickly, wondering if maybe there was more to him. Then she remembers he knows Wynonna Earp. And she’s… well. She’s Wynonna Earp.

They ride past the Earp homestead on the way Dolls leads them out of town and Nicole eyes it. There’s a thin line of smoke rising from the chimney. She draws rein to fix the house with a proper stare and Dolls gives her a questioning look. If Waverly stayed with Chrissy last night there shouldn’t be any sign of habitation here.

Nothing else changes and they’ve got a ways to go so Nicole heels forward. She makes a note to investigate when she gets back though.

They round the last bend and the road turns into a straight stretch out of town towards the wilderness. The Earp postbox sits right here on the road and Nicole groans.

Astride a dapple mare beside the box wearing divided skirts and a wide hat, bags strapped down behind her saddle and a shotgun lying across her pommel is Waverly. She gives Nicole a smile that says ‘I dare you to tell me to go back’.

Dolls tips his hat to her. “I take it you’re Miss Waverly Earp,” he says.

“That’s right Mister Dolls,” she replies sweetly. “I see you’ve met our esteemed Sheriff Haught.”

“Acting,” she corrects automatically. Dolls arches an eyebrow at Nicole but says nothing. She huffs. “Lead on, Dolls. You know our destination better than we.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His horse tosses his head as Dolls urges him forward to take the lead, Waverly falling into place beside Nicole behind him.

Waverly’s dapple sidesteps close enough that she can lay a hand on Nicole’s knee with only a little bit of a stretch. “Sorry,” she says, squeezing. “I knew you wouldn’t let me come if I said anything.”

“I can’t make you do anything, Waverly,” she replies, laying her hand over Waverly’s. “But I would’ve argued the point.” Nicole sighs. “It’s not that I don’t think you can’t handle yourself, I know you can,” she waves vaguely at the shotgun. “I just…”

“Worry,” Waverly finishes for her. “I know. It’s part of your charm.”

She rolls her eyes. “Be safe, you told me. Well.” Nicole fixes her eyes on Waverly’s face. “You be safe too. Make sure you come home.”

Waverly smiles at her, a little sad and a little fond. “Always.”

They ride in silence for a while, Waverly’s dapple drifting off to a more appropriate distance. Nicole misses the proximity but neither of them know Dolls. It’s better to be careful. She keeps looking over at Waverly though, out of habit and because she can’t seem to help herself.

Dolls pulls his horse to a stop and points off to a dirt track. “It’s off that way.” He seems hesitant for some reason.

“Lead on,” Nicole says, voice tight again, from frustration more than anything else though. If they keep stopping it’ll take them all day. Or she assumes. It could be it’ll take them all day regardless.

He nods and turns off the road. They follow him for about half an hour on this little dirt track and then he takes a seemingly random direction off through the trees that have sprung up this far outside town. There’s not many of them and most are in the process of losing their leaves. But there are enough that line of sight isn’t good in any direction. The ground crunches beneath their horses’ hooves. Anyone watching would know someone was coming from a mile off.

It seems a perfectly good place to hide out. Though perhaps not for any extended period of time.

The sun inches towards its peak and they pause briefly beneath the lean trees to eat a simple lunch of bread and cheese. Dolls barely speaks to them, barely even _looks_ at either of them. Waverly keeps staring at his back as if appraising him but the longer they go without him acknowledging them, the closer her dapple gets to Cassidy. Nicole doesn’t mind.

She judges it to be a little before one when they emerge from the trees to a small clearing in the centre of which is a wide log cabin. There is a campfire not far away and a few hastily thrown together lean-tos among the trees. A picket line has been set up along one side of the cabin since there’s no room for a stable. Nicole counts eight horses tied to it but she can only see four men nearby.

Dolls whistles lowly and they look around. Nicole corrects herself: three men and a woman. All are in dark pants tucked into knee high boots, a black vest over white shirts, most have the sleeves rolled to the elbows and the white is starting to show signs of wear. The woman has a hat on her head, hair tied beneath it.

Waverly knees her horse a little closer to Nicole and when Dolls heels his off towards the picket line the woman catches sight of them. She lurches to her feet, a bright grin spreads across her face and for a second Nicole feels like she recognises the cheeky slant it gives her features.

This is Wynonna, then.

She dismounts and Waverly follows her lead. They have barely touched the ground, however, before Wynonna wraps Waverly up in a big hug.

“Nice to see you, baby girl,” she laughs. “You brought a puppy with.”

Waverly levels a look at her sister. “This is Sheriff Haught, actually.”

Wynonna rolls her lips together. “You brought the Purgatory _sheriff_ with you, well now.” She hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “I happen to have one of those too.”

“Nedley is here?” Nicole blurts. “Sorry. I’m Nicole Haught.” She extends her hand.

Wynonna’s eyes drop from her face, gaze trailing all the way down and then back up. She does take Nicole’s offered hand though. “Yes. You are.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Nicole can see Waverly making a face.

Once she’s let go of Nicole’s hand, Wynonna tucks her thumbs behind her belt. “And did you come all the way out here just for me, Sheriff Haught?” There’s a funny emphasis on her name that makes her skin prickle and the look she catches from Waverly means she heard it too.

She mimics Wynonna’s posture, hands on her belt, shoulders back. “For you, yes. And for Nedley. How bad is he?”

Wynonna hunches a shoulder. “He wasn’t good when we found him. Rosie’s bitten off the head of anyone who gets too close to the hut so I’m not sure how he is right now.” She waves a hand at their fire. “Why don’t you come sit and we’ll talk, _Sheriff_ , since that’s why you’re here.”

Nicole shares a glance with Waverly. She receives a smile and Waverly’s fingers brush her wrist briefly before she follows her sister leaving Nicole to trail after her.

Two of the men who had been at the fire are now gone leaving just the one. He’s a tall fellow with a thick moustache and a hat slanted back across his head so his features aren’t obscured. He watches Nicole and Waverly sit across from him and a now seated Wynonna with unconcealed curiosity.

“So this is your sister,” he drawls, throwing a hand across the fire. “Name’s Henry, but everyone just calls me Doc.”

Waverly shakes his hand carefully. “Not a real doctor or you’d be in with Nedley, I hope,” she says sweetly.

He nods slowly. “I was a doctor. Better with a quick draw though.” His eyes slide to the cabin. “And Rosita is not one for sharing space. She’s good at what she does, don’t you worry about that, miss.”

“Doc,” Wynonna says, tapping his knee lightly. “Why don’t you leave me to talk to my sister for a bit.”

He taps the brim of his hat. “I’ll just see to your horses. Ma’am.” Somehow he made that last word out to both of them at once before departing.

“So,” Wynonna begins, looking at Nicole. “What brings you all the way out here?”

“You know about the attacks in the area,” she says, getting right to the point. They’ve beaten around the bush plenty. She waits for Wynonna’s wary nod before continuing. “I just want to know what you’ve seen, if anything. We know _nothing_ and it’s…” she exhales heavily, hands turning white knuckled as she grips her knees. “We’re _helpless_.”

She can feel Waverly’s eyes on her, soft, concerned but she doesn’t dare steal a glance. Wynonna regards her with a surprisingly good poker face for a long moment.

“I’ve heard. There’s not much to know, honestly. We have scouts out all the time and see almost nothing. A few shadows here and there.” She pauses to fix Nicole with a sympathetic look. “Whoever they are, they’re good.”

“Do you have any idea of numbers?” she asks, hoping for anything.

Wynonna shrugs. “I’d guess not over a dozen. It’d be hard to keep more than that hidden in this land. Not really enough places for it.”

“There’s the mine,” Waverly chimes in. “It’s abandoned but…”

Nicole and Wynonna both look at her as if she’s sprouted a second head. “The mine, baby girl?”

“You know. It closed down when daddy was a deputy,” she explains. “He took us out there once to watch the entrance being collapsed.”

Wynonna snaps her fingers. “Right. I suppose if you could clear out the entrance you’d get a good few people in there. I still don’t think more than a dozen. Where would they get food? Horses? How do they travel unseen? No, too many and it becomes too hard to manage. We only brought eight people with us and it’s hard.”

“Dolls said you lost two men,” Nicole prompts. The ninth horse must have been a pack animal, she thinks, tallying them all up in her head.

Wynonna’s face crumples. “We did. Last week. Both over by the forest to the north.” She bobs her head back and forth. “Incidentally, right around the closed mine entrance. Okay, Waves, you make a good point. I’ll send a few boys over to watch it tonight.”

Nicole’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’ll help?”

“My little sister lives in that shithole town,” Wynonna tells her blithely. “I don’t want it wiped off the map any more than you do, Sheriff.”

Nicole huffs. “How come you were never more reasonable with Nedley, then?”

She waves a hand. “Nedley’s a stick in the mud, always has been. I have too many strikes on my record with him to do any good now. He would’ve struck a deal like ‘help us out and I won’t give you life behind bars’ and that’s just not good enough.”

“You think I’ll be different?”

Wynonna’s eyes glitter in a way that makes Nicole instantly want those words back. “I think you know better than to pick a fight.” She glances at Waverly and Nicole has the funniest feeling that Wynonna knows about their relationship. Which is… Unless Waverly told her.

Nicole closes her eyes slowly. “Yes. Alright.” She leans back. “I want to be back in Purgatory before tomorrow night or I dare say there’ll be chaos. Any chance I can see Nedley before I go?”

“That’s up to Rosita.” Wynonna spreads her hands as if to say ‘what can you do’. “I’ll put in a good word.” She points one of her fingers towards a lean-to on the far side of the cabin. “That’s where I’ve been sleeping since Rosie took over the cabin. You’re welcome to share the space. You brought camp rolls?”

Nicole nods. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Sheriff. Let me go see about dinner.” She offers a mock bow. “Make yourselves at home.”

Nicole and Waverly sit in silence for a few minutes at the fire before either of them speaks.

“This isn’t how I wanted you to meet her,” Waverly whispers.

“You told her about us?”

Waverly hums. “Yes. In a letter. I thought if she knew she might visit. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. She’s your sister.”

Waverly’s fingers wind through hers and it’s not so bad then. “Thank you.”

“For what, Waves?” She actually looks around; she’s so shocked by it.

She shrugs. “For being so… good.”

Nicole clears her throat. She can manage nothing more than a strangled humming. It’s going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

 

She’s woken by a hard shove to her shoulder sometime in the pitch dark of night. Beside her, Waverly stirs but Nicole’s too busy wishing Wynonna could see her excellent glare through the gloom.

“Nedley’s awake,” Wynonna whispers. “If you want to talk, now’s the chance.”

Nicole sits up slowly, trying not to wake Waverly but clearly she’s not going to have much luck. Waverly’s wound her hands into Nicole’s shirt it seems.

“Don’t go,” she mumbles. “Warm.”

Nicole bends closer to press a kiss to her temple. “I’ll be back. I want to see Nedley. Go back to sleep.” As she extracts herself to follow Wynonna she lays her blanket over Waverly. It is starting to get chilly in the evenings.

She catches up to Wynonna near the front of the cabin, waiting. As Nicole makes to head in though, Wynonna’s hand catches her shoulder.

“Listen,” she says and Nicole’s stomach immediately bottoms out at her tone. “Waverly told me ages ago about the ‘pretty deputy’ – her words – and what happened. You’ve been the focus of her letters for a long time and she really,” Wynonna’s face scrunches up, “She cares about you. So if you hurt her, know this: nothing will stop me from finding you and making _you_ disappear into the woods. Got it?”

Nicole doesn’t even know where to begin replying to that. First off, how long is a long time? Secondly, what does ‘ _cares_ ’ mean? She files it all away to ask Waverly later. Right now, she nods to Wynonna. “I would never hurt her, not ever.” She leaves off the ‘I would rather die’ because that seems overly dramatic but from the vehemence in her voice she thinks Wynonna gets it.

“Good.” She pats Nicole’s shoulder briefly and then motions towards the door. “I’m going to wait right here where Rosie can’t get me. Enjoy.”

On that ominous note, Nicole takes the step up to the door and knocks warily. There’s a call from within that Nicole isn’t sure is invitation – it sounds more like a cuss – but the door doesn’t lock so she pushes it in anyway. She’s learned from Waverly that it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission.

There are only a few candles lit in the cabin leaving it cast in deep shadow. The room she finds herself in appears to be a sort of living room, or perhaps for storage. A curtain hangs to her right and she sweeps it aside to find the bedroom space. It’s filled with a single log bed and a side table. Bottles fill the table space and even though Nicole can’t see them in the dim light, she supposes they’re filled with alcohol and maybe medicine of some kind. A waste basket stands beside the table filled to overflowing with bloody bandages. Nicole swallows.

She catches movement in the opposite corner and that’s when she begins to make out the woman leaning over the bed. When she sees Nicole she hurries over, dragging her past the curtain back into the other room.

Rosita folds her arms and eyes Nicole for a moment. “So you’re the little Earp’s deputy.” Nicole is suddenly grateful to the darkness for hiding the way she knows red fills her face. “He’s awake, but not in a good place yet so be careful. Don’t bump him, don’t ask hard questions and if he goes to sleep come and get me.”

With that, Rosita sweeps out of the cabin door already saying something to Wynonna where she sits on the step. Nicole watches Wynonna leap to her feet but then she turns back to the curtain hiding Nedley.

Warily, she steps through again and circles until she’s standing over the bed.

Nedley has a blanket drawn up to his chin to ward off the cold so she can’t see the extent of his injuries. What she can see is bad enough. The left side of his face is blotchy and swollen, Rosita has tied bandages around his head but beneath that his eye has swollen shut. There’s a deep cut beneath his other eye, it glistens wetly and Nicole worries that it’s bleeding – or worse, infected – but after a moment she realises that it’s some sort of tincture, perhaps an antiseptic, though she has no idea where Rosita could’ve gotten some of that.

Nedley’s right eye blinks open, it’s glazed, unfocused and it takes him a while to notice her.

“Haught,” he rasps, shifting under the blankets.

“Don’t move, old man,” she hushes, motioning with one hand hoping to still him without touching him. “Lay still. Rosita doesn’t want you to agitate your injuries.”

He huffs but stops shuffling about. “Is that her name?” he grunts. “She’s got good careful hands. I owe her my life.”

Nicole wrestles with her words but finally sighs, “You owe _Wynonna_ your life, actually, sir. She found you and brought you here.”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat. “You knew where she was?”

She shakes her head but Nedley’s eye has closed again so she says, “No. One of her men came to see Waverly. He brought us back. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by an ox-cart,” he grumbles. “They jumped me and Tom while we were eating. Must’ve been four or five of them. Cracked me over the head and the next thing I’m tied behind a horse being dragged across the countryside.” He sighs. “Tom?”

Nicole’s hands curl into fists, knuckles cracking. “We found his body, sir.”

“Poor Chrissy…”

“I told her myself, sir. But I promised I’d find you for her.”

He chuckles and immediately winces. “You did that. How are the boys?”

Nicole wrinkles her nose. “They’ll be better when you’re back, sir. They miss their sheriff.”

Nedley’s head lolls to one side as if he’s attempting to shake his head. When the pillow touches the bruising he sucks in a sharp breath and rights it so he’s staring at the ceiling again. “I’m retired now, Haught,” he says. “You’re the sheriff of Purgatory.”

“But sir –”

“No,” he interrupts her, his eye opening again. His gaze is still not very steady but her teeth click together. “Even if I make it back alive… I can’t… I’ve been aging for years but now my body knows it. What good’s a sheriff who can’t sit his horse or walk proper or break up a fight…”

“Sir… You can’t…” She doesn’t know where she’s going with that but she still wants to argue.

“You are sheriff now, Haught. Not _acting_ …” he pauses, eye rolling towards the other side of the bed. “My bags. In the outer pocket.”

Nicole shuffles around to kneel and pry open the flap on the front. It’s a small pocket, good for keeping a pocket watch and not much else. Her fingers close around something hard and pointed and when she holds it up to peer at through the gloom she nearly drops it.

“I can’t take this,” she insists.

“You can and you will, Haught. Wear it. Keep those boys in order.”

She can’t keep looking at it – his sheriff’s badge – so she tucks it into her coat pocket. “Sir…” She remembers what Rosita said about pushing him so she sighs and asks, “Where were you when you were attacked?” instead of pressing about the badge.

He makes a thoughtful sound. “Over by the ridge,” he murmurs. “Used to be a mine over that way. I remember when Ward Earp had it collapsed. Thought maybe we might find something. Didn’t even get there…”

Nicole leans over to peer at him, wondering why he trailed off like that; worried perhaps his wounds have taken him after all. But his chest still rises beneath the blanket. His breathing seems too shallow for her liking but at least he’s still there.

Over near the mine again. Seems like Waverly might have been right about it. She’s about to leave and get Rosita when she hears him mumble one last thing.

She bends back down to hear his soft words. “Attack… on Purgatory,” is all she hears Nedley whisper before he’s properly asleep, but it’s enough to make her hasten on her way back outside.

Nicole’s not sure what that means but she joins Wynonna and Rosita at the embers in the clearing.

“… not enough to travel,” Rosita is saying softly, arms folded. “We’ll have to stay here.”

Wynonna shakes her head. “Winter’s closing in, Rosie. It’s dangerous.”

She makes a _tch_ sound. “You think I don’t know that? It’ll be too rough a ride, the stress could kill him.”

Wynonna shuffles her feet, head rolling back to stare up at the sky. She huffs unhappily. “Fine, but I’m leaving Dolls with you.”

“You’re gonna need all the hands you can get, Wy.” Rosita’s voice is low, worried, but Wynonna only laughs.

“I have the new sheriff with me,” she says dismissively. “We’ll be okay. And you know, Earps count for at least two people. Three, even.”

Nicole stuffs her hands into her coat pockets; she ignores the hard lump of the badge pressing against her fingers. “He mentioned something about an attack?”

Rosita nods slowly. “He was babbling in her sleep a few nights back. I thought it was delirium, from his wounds, you know. You think there’s something to it?”

Nicole hunches her shoulders. “Did he say anything else?”

“Nothing coherent. This is only the second time he’s been awake enough to speak.”

“He’s asleep again now,” she says and Rosita bobs her head. She heads back towards the cabin muttering about something Nicole isn’t sure she would care to hear anyway. When it’s just her and Wynonna she arches an eyebrow. “Are you going somewhere?”

“The boys I sent towards the mine earlier returned. Gareth got shot, lost his horse,” she sighs. “Harold said they looked like they were gearing up for something. Reckons there are about eight men.”

“So you were right, not more than a dozen.”

Wynonna’s mouth quirks in a smile but it’s not amused. “Eight’s too many. Rosita’s staying here with Nedley and I’m leaving Dolls to look after her. Gareth’s shot, so that just leaves me, Harold and Doc. Plus you and Waverly.”

“I have two men at the station,” Nicole tells her. “They won’t like it, but they’ll help if I give them the order.”

“Still only seven, I don’t like being outnumbered.”

Nicole drops a hand on her shoulder. “What about the townsfolk. Mattie won’t go down without a fight and Gus is tough as nails.”

Wynonna’s face scrunches up. “I wouldn’t ask civilians to get involved. Not against these guys. Poor Gus.”

“Maybe it won’t come to a shoot-out,” Nicole says and knows it sounds a little too hopeful. It probably will. From the look Wynonna gives her she knows it too.

Wynonna pats her back as she walks away from the fire. “Get some rest, Haught. Could be tomorrow is the last.” She disappears into the cabin then and Nicole can’t help but think she’s being a little dramatic. But maybe she has the right to be.

Waverly is curled up into a ball when Nicole slides back down beside her. She lets out a deep breath and reaches out to pull Nicole closer.

“How is he?” she asks blearily.

“As well as he can be. Rosita thinks he’ll be alright.”

“That’s good.” Waverly’s jaw cracks around a yawn. “We’re going back tomorrow?”

“Yes. Get some sleep, Waves.” Nicole presses another kiss to her face and tucks herself down beneath the blanket. She feels Waverly drift off but it takes her a lot longer to follow.

 

* * *

 

 

They rise early – too early for Nicole – and saddle their horses, eating on the move. It’s a crisp morning and the five of them are silent through the trees. Gareth had insisted he was well enough to ride with them but any time he moved it pulled at his shoulder and Rosita gave him a single burning look and he caved.

Wynonna leads them a different way through the trees so Nicole has no idea where they are but they haven’t seen a road yet. Not even one of the little game tracks like the one Dolls led them along yesterday. She wonders about it, but they’re all too tense for her to ask.

All she really knows is that Wynonna had demanded they move early and fast, perhaps she hopes to get back to Purgatory before these bandits arrive. Nicole is more sceptical. If Wynonna’s men had seen them moving in the night they could already have the town tied up.

She shudders to think what these outlaws will do to the townsfolk.

Worse, she shudders to think what some of the townsfolk might try to do in retaliation. Gus, in particular, she thinks might do something stupid.

Beside her, Waverly pulls hard on the reins to pull horse to a stop. “Wait.”

After a beat, everyone else draws in too. Wynonna doesn’t speak, just fixes her sister with a look that Nicole is beginning to understand is an Earp specialty.

“You said we’re at a disadvantage,” she says, directing her words to Wynonna. “But we don’t have to be. We have the benefit of knowing Purgatory really well.” Wynonna opens her mouth to argue but Waverly talks over her. “No, I know, you haven’t been _in town_ in a while, but we have. And it’s not like it’s _changed,_ Wynonna.”

“So… what are you suggesting, miss?” Doc asks when it’s clear Wynonna won’t.

“Traps,” Nicole says. “You want to lay a trap?”

Waverly turns a luminous smile at her. “Exactly, yes.”

“Traps require bait, baby girl,” Wynonna points out. “And we don’t know what these tumbleweeds want. If anything.”

“They want the town _lawless_ ,” she says. “You think it’s coincidence that they waited to attack until Nedley was… out of action? They wanted to get rid of the sheriff. Then I suppose they didn’t count on Nicole stepping up, but for just this morning they’ll have a window.”

Nicole holds one hand up. “Wait, wait. You want _me_ to be the bait?”

To her credit, Waverly’s face tints just a touch. “Well… yes. I do. But the point of a trap is that we’ll have you covered.”

There are so many things she wants to say to that. First among them being to remind Waverly that it was her who had so forcefully insisted Nicole stay _safe_ and that this is the very opposite of that instruction. She keeps her mouth shut because of their company but she files this away too as something she can bring up later. If she survives it.

Wynonna leans forward against her pommel, saddle creaking with the movement. “What did you have in mind, baby girl?”

Waverly smiles and Nicole’s blood runs cold.

 

* * *

 

 

One day Nicole’s going to look back on this day and wonder what under the sky she was thinking, she’ll ask how she ended up standing here doing this with Wynonna Earp of all people. But only if she lives long enough, she supposes.

Per Waverly’s wild suggestion, they’d road around the long way and come into Purgatory from one side, closer to the Nedley ranch on the outskirts. Nicole had tried to get Waverly to stay with Chrissy but… well. Two Earps are harder to talk out of something than one, she’s beginning to learn.

They’ve been crouched behind a fence for the last ten minutes watching the sheriff’s office. Doc and Harold had circled around a little more and were watching the front as they were less recognisable than the women.

There’s a high whistle from the alley and Wynonna nods. Nicole bounds over the fence, and hurries to the side door. For once, she’s grateful that James hasn’t locked it (though she will still chew him out for it later) and she pushes it in, waiting for the Earps to duck inside before she slams it closed and throws the lock into place.

Harrison jerks to his feet. “Sheriff,” he says in a too loud voice.

“Hush, Harry,” Nicole says. She rounds the bullpen to grab him by the sleeve. “What’s happened? Has anyone arrived this morning?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he blurts. “Five men rode through town earlier. Far as I know they’ve been at the saloon since. James went to speak with them about an hour ago.” His eyes cut first to Waverly – holding a shotgun like she means to use it and wearing a pair of Wynonna’s long slacks and boots – and widen. Then they catch onto Wynonna herself looking dishevelled and with her long barrelled Colt SAA at her hip and an expression on her face that says murder is always an option and his eyes just about fall out of his head.

“Shut your mouth, man,” Wynonna says tartly.

Nicole releases his arm. “There are two men across the street. One with a moustache. Bring them in.”

Harrison tips at where his hat would normally be and scurries off to do as instructed. It doesn’t take Doc and Harold long to join them but the way Harrison glances down the street Nicole worries that someone will think he’s acting strange and do something before their trap is properly laid.

Nicole tosses the keys to their gun safe to Doc and he and Harold walk past to take what they need. “Listen to me carefully, Harry,” she says, drawing his attention away from the other two. “Those men who came through here are going to try to start some trouble, alright?”

He starts. “Are they the ones who…”

“Yes,” Wynonna cuts him off. “They’re the criminals no one has been able to catch. Guess no one thought to check the mines. Anyway, we’re going to stop them from doing whatever nonsense it is they have planned. You gonna help or not?”

His back snaps straight and he nods. “Yes. What do you need?”

Wynonna’s smile is nasty. “A distraction. Think you can cause a commotion for us?” Her eyes land on Nicole and it takes all her self-control not to waver under her gaze.

Harrison though, god bless him, only nods again. “What did you have in mind, ma’am?”

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re no sheriff of mine!” Harrison unbuckles his belt and throws it to the ground, holster, badge and all. “It’s your fault we lost Tom and Nedley.”

Nicole’s throat tightens. “Nedley knew what he was about, Harry,” she yells at him, anger winning out over fear to make her words strong. “And so did Tom.”

He scoffs. “You just don’t want to take the blame for yourself. You know it’s on you, _Nicole_.” He folds his arms across his chest. “I won’t serve under you.” She sees him look over her shoulder and smile. “And I know James won’t either.”

Ah yes. Nicole pivots. The doors to Shorty’s have been thrown open and James is standing on the porch watching with a blank face. It’s quite a ways down the main road from the sheriff’s office to Shorty’s but Nicole can see others in the doorway behind him.

At length, James steps forward. “I won’t accept a woman for a sheriff,” he calls.

The words hurt but at the same time she’s glad she could count on him to be an arse and work with them. Harrison nods fiercely in agreement. Once James has reached them he too unbuckles his belt and throws it into the dust with Harrison’s.

“You two are both so full of pride that you’d abandon your posts?” she demands and neither of them so much as hesitate before they’re firmly stating affirmatives. “Well fine. If you want to leave Purgatory without a sheriff’s office, we can do that.”

Something flickers in James’ eyes when she pulls the badge Nedley had given her from her belt and throws it down with their belts. He doesn’t speak though, just glares at her.

“Fine. We’ll become lawless like the wilds.” She props her hands on her hips and stares them down. She wonders how much longer they’ll have to argue like this before something happens to move their little plot along.

Harrison licks his lips, clearly having run out of ideas. All that really matters to Nicole is that James doesn’t bring Waverly up again. They don’t need that spanner thrown into things.

Before James can do more than open his mouth and lower a finger at her, she can hear slow clapping from the saloon. Both of her deputies lean to see who it is and Nicole turns carefully.

A broad man stands in the street before her, just too far away to be of use to them. He’s wearing a fur coat that Nicole is pretty sure is a little drastic this early into autumn and there’s a self-satisfied tilt to his mouth that she can just barely see past his thick beard.

“Well, well,” he says, lowering his hands to his belt. “It seems our esteemed acting sheriff has returned from the wilderness. Just in time, too. And you’ve made my job _so_ much easier.”

“Who are you then?” she asks him despite knowing full well.

“Most know me as Bobo Del Rey,” he says sweeping a mocking half bow. His hand makes a strange gesture to one side as though indicating something that isn’t there. “Although you might know my handiwork better than my name. Did you ever find your dear sheriff?”

Her posture stiffens and she bites out, “Yes.” Beside her she can see James eyeing his holster but there’s no way he’ll be fast enough. Del Rey has men with him standing on either side. And their guns are much closer to hand.

Del Rey is still too far away but she’s not sure what she can say to coax him closer.

“We found your little hideaway too,” she says, smiling. “There was some… _interesting_ stuff in the mines, Del Rey.”

He flinches at that but his smile returns quickly enough. He takes a few steps towards her though which is what she wanted.

“What use is that to you now, little sheriff?” he laughs, hands splaying out in a pseudo-shrug. “Your town is mine.”

She taps her chin. “Let me ask you about that,” she begins, waving at his men. “Since you have us out gunned and out-numbered and all.” He makes another motion with his hand as though he intends it to indicate giving his permission. “What was the point of kidnapping those people? Steal all the gold at the reserve? If you wanted to take over the town, it would surely make sense to… have a town to run?”

His brows pinch together and he takes a few more steps. Almost he’s where she wants him. But not quite. She sees James glance at his gun again and silently wills him to stay where he is.

“It’s hard to take over a town that considers you criminals, outlaws, _evil_ , without first sowing a little chaos,” he tells her, voice smooth in spite of his frown. “Also we wanted the law in town as useless as possible and I think we achieved that. Now. You have two choices,” he lifts a finger. “Stand right where you are and take your demise like good proper lawmen… and woman.” He adds the last with an amused smirk and then lifts a second finger. “Or you can run. Scurry off like the rodents you are and see how long you last being chased through the wilds.” He makes another hand wave. “Time to choose.”

“I think you’re _swine_ ,” she tells him. “Why don’t you come a little closer and insult me like a man?”

She thinks she’s just about got him when James dives for his gun and instead of coming closer Del Rey shouts, “Shoot them!”

Then there’s proper chaos.

Nicole grabs Harrison by the scruff of his neck and hauls him out of the road towards the carriage parked on the corner. Across the street she can see James ducking for cover too but he collapses in an unnatural way and she sighs, pretty sure he’s been caught by one of the bullets now pinging down the main road.

In the alley on the far side, Nicole sees Wynonna shuffle her feet. She doesn’t have a clear shot and when she waves sideways Nicole knows neither does Doc.

“What do we do now, Sheriff?” Harrison asks, drawing his pistol from the back of his waistband where he’d safely stowed it before dropping the belt. “This isn’t good.”

She rests a hand on his knee. “We’ll be alright. We just have to get Del Rey out in the open.”

Harrison bobs his head but doesn’t seem sure. His grip tightens on his pistol and something settles in his eyes. “I’ll cover you. Draw him out.”

He sticks his head out from behind the wheel and fires a few times down the street. Over in the alley, Wynonna nods and does the same. Nicole wonders where Waverly went, she was supposed to be with her sister and Harold. No time to dwell on that right now, she takes a deep breath and stands, firing her gun in their direction.

“You want to put the law down in Purgatory,” she shouts down the street. “You’ll have to work for it.”

She hears swearing from near the saloon and assumes Del Rey heard her. Not that she has a plan anymore, everything from here is improvisation. While Harrison fires again she darts across the street, a bullet thwicks into the dust beside her and she hurries faster.

James is down but not dead in the shadow of a horse trough. She ducks behind the bannister of the barber and lays a hand on his arm. “Where are you hurt?” she asks.

“Shoulder,” he grunts. “Right side. Should be okay.” He narrows his eyes at her. “What sort of plan was this?”

“The sort where you were supposed to just stand there and trust that your sheriff knew what she was doing,” she tells him wryly. “Stay here and don’t do anything else stupid.”

He grits his teeth and nods as she heads into the alley where Wynonna is waiting. She’s alone. “Doc can’t get a line from there,” she says without preamble. “What’s the plan now, Sheriff?”

She sucks in a long suffering breath and lets it all out in a rush. “I was hoping Waverly might have something to say on that front, this was her idea.”

Wynonna’s lips twist as her face crumples into something pained. “Yes well… she and Harold disappeared out the end of the alley. I don’t know where they went.”

Nicole opens her mouth to say something but a shotgun blast interrupts her. The look she shares with Wynonna says they both know who that is. Another gunshot rings out followed by a shout and it occurs to Nicole that’s it’s awfully quiet of a sudden.

“They’ve stopped shooting,” Wynonna mutters, thoughtful. Her eyes widen at the same time as Nicole’s stomach collapses on itself. “Waverly.” Then Wynonna is pushing past her out into the street, gun lifted at eye level to point at the men down the other end.

Nicole swears under her breath and follows.

She can’t see properly at first, dust has been stirred up making everything hazy. She coughs and waves a hand to clear her vision, her gun held out like Wynonna’s. The air clears a little and she squints, wondering where Waverly is.

Del Rey is holding Harold around the neck, gun pressing into his side. Nicole can’t see Waverly though and her heart stops.

“Drop your guns,” Del Rey calls, “Or he gets the same as the girl.”

The second gunshot. Nicole can’t move a single inch and at the same time itches all over with the need to run down there and find Waverly.

After a very long moment Nicole loosens her hold on her gun. It swings from her finger just for a second before she drops it to the dust. Wynonna shoots her a look but she’s beyond caring at this point.

“Bring him closer,” Wynonna calls to Del Rey. “I’m not dropping my gun until I know my man is gonna be safe.” Her lips quirk. “And I’m not law, so don’t think for a second I’ll hesitate in putting you down.”

Something shifts on Del Rey’s face but he does as she says which is more than Nicole expects, honestly. He has all the cards in this situation. Or perhaps not quite all.

As he draws closer – and Nicole is counting the inches until Doc has the shot they need – his expression changes. “Ah,” he laughs. “The presiding Earp! Wonderful. I knew your father.”

Wynonna’s finger twitches on the trigger. “Oh I know. You were a lawman too. You used to go to court with him. I remember you, Robert.”

He seems surprised that she knows his name but doesn’t flinch or anything. He takes another step. “To think,” he drawls, “You became a criminal like me. Your dear father would be so disappointed.” He clucks his tongue. One more step.

“I think we both know, Robert,” she says and Nicole gives her credit for keeping her eyes on Del Rey’s face rather than his feet. “Sometimes to do what’s necessary you have to step outside the law.”

Del Rey takes another step. A gunshot cracks through the otherwise silent street. Wynonna lowers her gun. It’s Del Rey’s last step.

He hits the dirt and Harold slithers free, pulling a small pistol from his waistband to point at Del Rey’s men. They all seem too stunned to do anything, though, really.

Until Del Rey coughs into the dust.

Then they all lift their weapons and the only thing that stops more chaos from breaking out is the snap of a shotgun barrel and the look on Waverly’s face as she exits Shorty’s.

“Make another move,” Waverly says flatly. “And I won’t hesitate.” She tips the barrel at them but spares a glance past them to wink at Nicole.

Wynonna drops to the dirt beside Del Rey and prods him in the shoulder.

Behind them, Doc is dropping down from the roof of the sheriff’s office, rifle in hand. He tilts his hat as he steps over to them.

“Nice shot,” Nicole tells him.

“Why thank you. Wynonna tells me I have the steadiest hand she’s ever seen.” Wynonna is clapping irons on Del Rey’s wrists and ankles when Doc falls to a crouch and plucks the tranquiliser from his neck. “Good stuff. What do you keep horse darts on hand for?”

“We had an issue a few years ago with some wild horses,” Nicole says. “Nedley kept them just in case.”

“Smart man.”

Nicole heads down the street to meet Waverly, Harrison catches up to her as well. There are four men now on their knees in the dust with the threat of Waverly’s shotgun hanging quite literally over their heads.

“Thank you, Miss Earp,” Nicole says.

“Any time.” She tilts her head. “Are we going to have enough cells to throw them in?”

“I’m sure we’ll manage.”

One of the men glares up at her. “You didn’t kill him,” he spits. “That’ll be a mistake that costs you.”

Nicole smiles at him. “Oh I doubt that very much. You see, there’s a caravan coming out from Toronto just for you gentlemen. We sent word. You’re going to see the inside of one of their prisons for the rest of your lives. Providing they don’t hang you, of course.”

“You’ve got nothing.”

“Hate to disagree, boys,” Waverly says cheerfully. “But we have all the dynamite and stolen goods from your mine hide-away. Also a testimony from the recently retired Randy Nedley, who you somehow failed to properly kill. Congratulations.”

Nicole has honestly never loved Waverly more than in that moment.

Wynonna comes rattling over to stand beside her then, a collection of shackles dangling from her hand – one for each of the men in the dirt. “That Chetri fellow has taken your ass of a deputy to the clinic. Says he’ll live.”

“I’m thrilled,” Nicole sighs. She watches as Wynonna slaps the men into the chains none too gently and smiles. “You know, you’d make one hell of a deputy, Wynonna.”

She tuts. “Don’t insult me.”

“No you would. Might be nice to have you around to insult me more regularly.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes and stands. “I’ll think about it.”

Nicole laughs as Wynonna grabs two of the outlaws by their collars and starts hauling them towards the sheriff’s office. The rest of them escort one each, Doc must have carried the unconscious Del Rey in because neither of them is still in the street.

Dolls is sitting in one chair with his feet propped in another. By Nicole’s desk is a pile of assorted things he’d claimed from their mines.

“That’s not all of it, Sheriff,” he says when they arrive. “But it’s all I could carry. Nearly rode my horse to death getting to the next town and back over night. But word has been passed along. The Toronto sheriff’s people will be here in a few days to collect them and all the evidence.”

Wynonna claps his shoulder as she comes back into the front of the office. It’s crowded with so many people but Nicole thinks it’s nice.

“You did good, Dolls,” Wynonna says. “Now. Can we go back to living quietly?”

“Actually,” Doc muses after depositing the criminal he was escorting into the cells. “I was thinking it might be nice to hang around for a while. Maybe have a bath.”

“Sleep in a real bed,” Harold puts in.

Wynonna tosses her hands into the air. “You’re pathetic the lot of you.”

“Actually, Earp,” Dolls puts in. “The reason we all lived on the land like that was because we – all of us – had been kicked out of various locations for… assorted reasons. But I don’t think the good sheriff here is going to mind us staying in Purgatory.” He tips his head back to look up at Nicole. “Are you?”

She just about bursts out laughing. “No. You’re all welcome to stay as long as you like.”

Wynonna scrunches her nose up. “I’ve gotten used to not being welcome. Take that back.”

Waverly sidles up beside her sister. “Actually it might be nice to see you more, Wy,” she says sweetly. Wynonna crumbles almost immediately and Nicole takes solace in finding out she’s not the only person who can’t resist Waverly’s adorable face.

“Alright, alright,” she sighs. “But I’m not here to be deputised. Keep that with this.” She tosses Nedley’s badge at Nicole who only just catches it out of reflex. “Sheriff.” And this time, when Wynonna tips her head it’s not mocking in the slightest.

Nicole just smiles. “Alright.”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s another week before Rosita and Gareth bring Nedley back to town. The old man is of course insisting that he’s fine, he can sit his own horse, there’s no need to treat him like an invalid. He arrives the same day as the Toronto deputies and is just in time to see them being loaded into the back of a heavily armoured wagon. Nicole thinks he recognises at least a few of them, but having heard Wynonna explain about what happened between Del Rey and Ward Earp she’s not sure if it’s because Nedley was there for the incident or if he knows which ones attacked him and Tom.

Nicole thinks it’s not soon enough that Gareth – arm in a sling – helps him from the wagon at the Nedley ranch. Waverly almost has to restrain Chrissy from giving her father a crushing bear hug. She’s tired of riding between her place and the ranch. Not that the Earp homestead will be much better, she supposes. Especially now that Wynonna has moved back in.

She rubs the back of her neck but shakes Nedley’s hand when Chrissy stops fussing.

“Thank you, Haught,” he says gruffly. “Heard you did some good work.”

“Well, sir,” she huffs. “It was mostly Miss Earp’s idea, actually.”

He smiles at them but shakes his head and lets Chrissy lead him inside. Nicole and Waverly stand outside until they’re both gone.

Nicole takes Cassidy’s reins and leads her down the path so she can walk beside Waverly. For a long while they walk in silence, Waverly hooks her arm through Nicole’s elbow but neither says a word.

Until, “So I’ve been thinking,” Waverly mutters.

“Oh no.”

She slaps Nicole’s arm lightly. “Really, I think it’s a good thought.”

“I would love to hear it, honest.”

Waverly squints at her but relents swiftly. “So now that Wynonna is back, and Doc and Dolls are both staying at the homestead too now, it’s a bit crowded. And more than a little bit frustrating when I want to spend time with you.”

Nicole almost trips over her own boot. She hums rather than risk saying something idiotic.

“I was thinking maybe I could move my things to your place,” Waverly finishes; squeezing Nicole’s elbow a little tighter as if afraid she’ll vanish.

“I…” She can’t manage to say anything else right away. “Really? You don’t suppose that’s…” she flounders for a word and settles with, “improper?” even though it’s not quite what she’s after.

Waverly’s nose crinkles. “No, of course not. Most of the town knows we’ve been together for three years now.” She stops and pulls Nicole around to look at her. Waverly’s hands run up her collar to her face. “I _love_ you, Nicole,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “There’s no impropriety in that.”

Nicole blinks and knows she looks stupid. It’s not the first time Waverly has said that, but it’s the first with such furious emphasis. “I love you,” she says, more a reflex than anything to really contribute to the conversation. “I didn’t mean that it’s improper because I _don’t_ , that’s absurd. I meant more…” she trails off and knows her face has gone bright damn red.

Waverly’s just looking at her softly though, eyes warm and caring, hands gentle as they run back to thread into her hair. “Well what then?”

“Never mind.” But Waverly has a firm hold on her and doesn’t let her pull away. She gets one of those patented Earp looks too and sighs in defeat. “Waves… it’s… people don’t live together if they’re not married. It’s not right.”

At that Waverly actually bursts out laughing. When Nicole pulls a face she’s sure reads as offended, Waverly just pulls her closer and kisses her soundly. “Oh sweetheart,” she murmurs when she pulls away. “My sister is living with two men.”

“And people call it improper,” Nicole points out.

Waverly shrugs. “People have always called my sister improper. It’s part of being an Earp.” She tucks herself back into Nicole’s side, hand hooked through her elbow again. “Besides,” she continues blithely as they resume walking back to town. “Perhaps if I move my belongings to your house and you get all upset about how _improper_ it is, you’ll finally have incentive to just _ask_ me to marry you.”

This time there’s no almost about it; Nicole does trip over her boot.


End file.
